Category: Bowlers Journal International

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, December, 2023

Recently, legendary librarian and researcher May Kyorspares discovered a copy of Emily Postingshot’s Etiquette and Bowling Dining. Originally published in 1895 in conjunction with the launch of the American Bowling Congress, Etiquette and Bowling Dining was the foremost authority on the subject for decades until all copies were thought to have gradually disintegrated or found their way to estate sales or dumpsters or the bottom of Lake Tahoe. Postingshot passed away in 1943 without a will, a survivor or a single copy of her breakthrough publication among her few possessions.

Since Postingshot’s guide was published in 1895, it doesn’t address some of the issues of present-day bowling, nor could it have foreseen plastic killing the rubber game before urethane killed the plastic game before reactive resin killed the urethane game before urethane killed the reactive-resin game, as the rubber bowling balls that killed the wooden game weren’t invented until 1905.

Eating and bowling have long been intertwined, with recreational bowlers using league night not just as a place to compete but also to have dinner and enjoy some fellowship. The food available at bowling centers has advanced considerably since 1895, but the desire to simultaneously eat and bowl remains strong.

Many of Postingshot’s rules still apply in principle but could use an update for today’s game. Kyorspares plans to auction the book for an estimated $48M, but has shared some of the rules in advance to inspire potential buyers. Kyorspares refused to give us permission to reprint some of the rules here, but that’s okay because the book is now in the public domain and we can print whatever we want as long as it has nothing to do with ball hardness. We’ll start with Postingshot’s original guidelines and then attempt to modernize them to keep up with bowling’s advances.

Always eat with your non-bowling hand. This is obvious. Righties are to use their left hands to eat and lefties are to use their rights. This keeps pizza grease out of the bowling ball. The guide doesn’t address two-handers, but it’s safe to assume two-handers should either use their support hands to eat, thoroughly wiping the residual grease all over their pants as part of the pre-shot routine, or jam their faces into the food like a contestant in a stereotypical pie-eating contest. Cutlery, as in 1895, is still not advised.

Never eat on the approach. While tempting to walk to the line with a hot dog in hand, too much can go wrong. The slightest bit of mustard on the approach can impact the next player’s slide, leading to potential injury. Even the tiniest bun crumb could absorb just enough moisture from the air to lower the humidity enough to force players to change their slide soles (a solution that was not available in 1895). This is more than a guideline and is an actual rule in just about every bowling center in the world.

Always order your food before competition begins or, in an emergency, immediately after your frame. Loading up on food before competition is preferable, but if you develop a sudden desperate need for molten cheese, placing your order as soon as your frame ends gives you the maximum amount of time to get to the counter, beg for sustenance and return to your lanes before your next turn. In 1985, pace of play was important and keeping your lanemates waiting was grounds for banishment from the league. Today, pace of play is excruciating and we need to fix it. Perhaps perfecting the timing of ordering our loaded tots will generate the momentum needed to speed up the game.

Never leave discarded food, plates or wrappers behind. When Postingshot wrote her guide, this was a laughable point because of course people took care of their own garbage. Today, it must be acknowledged. Sure, a hard-working employee will take care of your disrespectful laziness if necessary, but don’t make it necessary. Leaving your smeared barbecue sauce and crumpled plates behind is disgusting. Throw them away.

Per Kyorspares’ auction listing, these are just four of the 900 guidelines in the perfect series making up the book. If you’d like a shot at the other 896, Kyorspares says she’ll be releasing further details on the auction at Whenever She Gets Around To It p.m. ET.

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, November, 2023

In 1988, professional wrestler Curt Hennig, known as Mr. Perfect, performed in a series of vignettes to show fans he was absolutely perfect. In perhaps his most famous bit, he bowled a perfect game. It was the perfect way to show how perfect Mr. Perfect was, but a quarter century later, it’s even more: the perfect example of how bowling is filmed, viewed and understood outside the bowling industry.

As we know, there is a huge difference between a runaway Brooklyn and a high-flush explosion, even if they count exactly the same on the scoreboard, but outside the bowling industry, one strike is the same as any other. Did the pins fall? Great. Use it.

Mr. Perfect’s first perfect shot shows the sinewy one-handed righty in a dry shirt and nice bowling slacks making a passable four-step approach to the line, rolling the ball straight at the head pin, connecting with the 1-3 and knocking everything down, the 5 pin going last. The perfect first impression. We can instantly see he’s not a Bowler, but he’s also not an incompetent slouch. If he were in a group of friends that bowls once a year, he’d be the star.

This may have legitimately been Mr. Perfect’s first shot of the video shoot. If so, he and the crew were likely ecstatic, thinking it was going to require much less time to get 12 perfect shots on camera than they’d originally anticipated.

As of the second frame, however, Mr. Perfect’s shirt is completely drenched in sweat, indicating a lot of unusable non-strikes had been thrown after that first one. Still, Mr. Perfect’s second frame again hits the 1-3 although he is far more upright and even hops at the line, appearing to have been at this for a while. The perspiring behemoth turns around with a cocky flourish as the ball obliterates the pins, making us want to see the outtakes of his many cocky flourishes that were presumably accompanied by picking off corner pins.

His third strike is a Brooklyn with the 9 falling late, but he appears to be regaining his balance. He also goes Brooklyn in the fourth, this time with the 5-10 being tripped late. This is an important frame because, to anybody reading this column, that’s an extremely lucky shot for which a bowler should forever be ashamed. For a non-bowling video crew, that’s some slick-looking pinfall that needs to be maximized. And it will be.

The fifth frame is his third straight Brooklyn, but we must respect the integrity of the piece in that it’s evident Mr. Perfect is actually rolling all these shots. There is no stunt bowler being spliced together with Mr. Perfect’s perfect reactions.

In the sixth, he returns to the 1-3 side of the rack to crack open a six pack. By the seventh, he’s feeling it, again confidently turning away from the pins and hammering his hands in triumph as the pins go flying behind him.

This is where Mr. Perfect truly gets arrogant. His next four strikes, which get him to the front 11, are quick cuts of the pinfall followed by quick cuts of strikes being added to the score sheet. This was vlog-style editing before there were vlogs. All four are exact copies of his fourth frame in which he tripped the 5-10. Mr. Perfect is either more perfect than we thought, which is impossible, or the video crew got sick of waiting for the man to roll 12 strikes and said, “We can throw in that fun pinfall from earlier four more times.”

The final shot has to be new footage to prove this was real. The footage is so new that Mr. Perfect’s shirt is drier than it was in the second frame. The ball nearly goes through the face but technically hits the “correct” side of the headpin, with eight pins falling immediately and the dramatic-for-TV-sloppy-for-bowling late crumbling of the 7 and then 4 pin complete Mr. Perfect’s perfect game as he saunters back from the line with his incomparable swagger.

Twelve strikes featuring eight unique shots of pinfall from a man whose shirt’s sweat saturation fluctuates throughout might make a bowling fan skeptical of whether or not Mr. Perfect actually bowled a perfect game. But it was perfect. In mass media, all strikes are equal. Chronology doesn’t matter. Lucky pinfall is actually compelling pinfall. It told the story it wanted to tell.

Most important: it was 12 strikes in a row, proving the late Mr. Perfect was who he said he was: perfect.

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, October, 2023

In our previous installment of why bowling is better than all other sports (Bowlers Journal International, September, 2021), we addressed unpredictability, long days, short weeks and everyone being better than everyone while no one is better than anyone. In this, installment 2/ (this is a social-media thread reference and not a two-spare bowling frame), we further explore why no other sport in the world can approach, pun intended, bowling.

Frequent Format Explanations

During every round of professional (or semi-professional or amateur or semi-amateur or sub-amateur) bowling, we as fans are treated to repeated reminders of the tournament format. This group of players is bowling this many games before another group of players bowls the same number of games before a cut to the top certain number of players leads to another round of qualifying or match play or bracket play or whatever it may be and then another cut, if applicable, leading to the stepladder finals or head-to-head finals or other type of championship match. Over the course of a five-hour qualifying round, we get to hear the format at least 38 times.

Can you remember the last time you watched a baseball or basketball or hockey game in which you were reminded of the format? No. It doesn’t happen. Those sports assume we know what’s going on and don’t tell us, which is insulting. Bowling wins again.

Frequent Format Changes

The format reminders are important because one never knows from “week” to “week” or league to league what the format is. This gives us variety and a chance to see championships decided in different ways. Sure, the same players win anyway (EJ Tackett’s five wins in 2023 covered four different tournament formats, Anthony Simonsen’s three wins covered three different tournament formats and Packy Hanrahan’s two wins covered two different tournament formats), but it’s fun never to know what’s next. Much more interesting than the sheer boredom and monotony of knowing every hockey game is going to consist of three 20-minute periods.

Unmatched Athleticism

Bowling asks its athletes to be at absolute peak performance for five to 12 hours a day, depending on how many squads are out there. Professional basketball players need to perform at their best for maybe three hours, which includes halftime and substitutions and timeouts. Hockey players also need to perform for up to three hours, but in 30-second shifts and with two 17-minute intermissions built in. Bowlers get physical rests between shots while their lanemates bowl, but if they’re in a single-squad, two-blocks-a-day tournament (we may need another format reminder to be sure), that’s at least 10 hours of having to stay mentally sharp 100% of the time and physically sharp during every shot. No other athletes are asked to do this because no other athletes can do this. Bowling, again, is superior.

Nice Pants

Although a relatively common complaint among some, bowlers at the professional level wear decent pants. Baseball players: weird tights, occasionally with stripes. Basketball players: shorts. Hockey players: padded shorts with odd socks over the shins. Bowlers simply put on a decent pair of slacks and go compete.

Wholesome Content

In team sports, trust is important. Coaches have to trust their players and vice versa, the player passing the playing module needs to trust the player receiving the playing module, teammates need to know they’ll support each other in all situations and the teams that do this best generally succeed. Still, this trust is never unconditional and there are always exceptions.

Bowling, despite being an individual sport, is the best example among all of humanity for knowing how to trust. No matter the outcome, a bowler will never lose his or her trust in The Process. It’s wholesome, moral and a great example for not just athletes in other sports but also all human beings to follow. There’s too much cynicism in the world. Emulate a bowler: trust The Process.

Bowling is Best

Unlike the single-minded prima donnas in other sports, bowlers are athletes in nice pants who can compete at the highest level for 12 straight hours in an ever-changing tournament format and have the emotional capacity for unconditional trust. Bowling far transcends every other sport.

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, September, 2023

Finally, September is here. The PBA50 and PWBA Tour seasons are over and the PBA Tour season is mostly over, with only the Lucky Larsen Masters and PBA League events to go, so at long last we can ignore all the professionals and do what we do best: focus on our own games as recreational leagues are once again getting underway.

In our recreational leagues, we don’t have to worry about rankings and who should or shouldn’t be eligible for anything. We get to pick our friends as teammates, who only rank in the senses that they are rank amateurs and they emit rank odors after a maximum of three practice shots.

Obviously, there are many bowlers who compete in leagues and tournaments on multiple oil patterns throughout the summer, and those people are more than ready for fall. However, the vast majority of league bowlers begin their weekly pursuits of greatness on house shots in September after a few months off. For the latter group, it starts with cleaning out and restocking the bowling bag. This is easy because the latest bowling ball combines cover A with core B, so simply purchasing the new ball allows us to remove ball A and ball B from the bag, a two-for-one swap that opens up a slot for another new ball, which conveniently combines cover B with core A.

It’s a three-ball roller, so we should probably fill the last slot with a plastic—no, let’s keep this old favorite of ours just in case. I’m sure we won’t be shooting many spares and if we have to, we’ll definitely have no problem throwing reactive resin at them. Plus, this ball helped us win the league four years ago and it’ll give us confidence to know it’s there.

We probably don’t need new shoes. These still look good. Plus, they’re comfortable. We know how they slide and comfort on the approach is huge. These things are sleek, too. Covering them with booties would be a travesty, partly because we want to show off the shoes but mostly because we outgrew booties at approximately six months of age.

Accessories. We definitely need our towel. Or should we try a shammy this year? Let’s pack both. We’ll need 60 spare finger inserts, 30 for each finger, just in case we lose both on every shot. Wait, though: we’ll probably bowl 900, which will be 36 shots. We’d better pack 36 of each finger insert to be safe. Let’s gamble on the thumb. We have one we can move from ball to ball, but if that breaks for some reason, maybe it’s a sign to embrace the two-handed game.

What else? The pros have dopp kits full of powders, glues, tapes, scissors, knives, etc. We’re not sure what any of that is for but let’s order a few dozen to cover us through the season.

A bunch of small bills for smalltime gambling, a few decks of playing cards, a little notebook we could conceivably use to make notes on our games but won’t, another towel and another shammy for good measure and that should be about it.

Are we forgetting anything? Oh, maybe we should practice. Touch a bowling ball for the first time since April. We could probably get to the lanes next Thursday… well, no, we’ll be fine. We’ll use the first nine weeks of the season as practice. That should be enough. The league is just for fun and it’s not sandbagging if we’re trying. Besides, nine weeks of practice among real competition should have us sharp enough to enter the USBC Masters next year as one of the favorites to win. And, as Masters champ, they’ll have to give us free bowling balls. Right?

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, August, 2023

In almost every sport, the answer to “What’s the score?” is easy. You turn on the hockey game in the middle of the first period and the first thing you do is look at the score bug. What’s the score? 3-2. You’re at a funeral and a friend notices you looking at your phone, knowing you’re checking on the baseball game. What’s the score? 3-2. You’re at a restaurant with as many as 78 TVs in your face (if you’re lucky, as few as 73) and all the TVs are showing teams and sports you don’t even care about, but you can’t help yourself. What’s the score? 3-2 on every TV, except the soccer game, which is 0-0.

It doesn’t work so easily in bowling.

What’s the score? Well, that guy is pacing 230 but the other guy is already in the 240s and their max scores are tied at 260.

For bowlers, that conversation is fine. Compelling, even. But imagine being a regular human being who only bowls a few times a year at the most. For those people, scoring has been automatic their entire lives, they’ve never learned to keep score and, although the automatic scorers can be understood when there are nothing but open frames, they become a confounding mess once a slash or X joins the line.

In the pro game, slashes and exes appear in nearly every frame. In the once-a-year-for-fun game, the scoreboards are nearly inverted, with strikes and spares being so rare they result in highly viewed social media posts like “Schlub Gets Spare,” featuring some guy in white shorts picking up the 3-6 by barely grazing the 3, which then barely grazes the 6. A great moment in that person’s life and there is nothing wrong with someone bowling to have fun and taking pleasure in such an accomplishment.

But now what? It’s his sixth frame, and to that point, his open frames were easy to add. Five plus seven plus four plus zero plus six equals 22. But the spare leaves his sixth-frame score blank. What happened? Has he been disqualified? Why does he still have a 22? Maybe spares are bad? To make matters more confusing, he will invariably roll a gutter ball in the seventh frame, meaning the box in the sixth will plant a 32 there. “Oh,” he’ll think incorrectly, “spares are worth exactly 10.”

Generally, we at The One Board ask knowledgeable bowlers to consider the mindsets and thought processes of those who are less experienced in the game in an effort to encourage those people to become interested in learning the finer details of the game from a helpful veteran rather than run screaming from a know-it-all goon who has no tolerance for a beginner.

Not this time. This time, we are calling for every possible educational outlet to introduce bowling scoring into the curriculum. Elementary schools, after-school activities, church groups, mentorship programs, the checkout line at the grocery store. People need to learn how to keep score. There was a time in which kids would learn to keep score during gym class. College courses in bowling required students to learn to score before they ever hit the lanes. Now, these opportunities are far too rare. Automatic scoring is great for many reasons, but people need to know how to interpret what they’re looking at. When a once-a-year bowler spares and his score changes a frame later by adding 10-20 pins, that person is confused. We’re not asking for everyone to be experts able to track a cut line in a field of 64 in real time, but we should all be able to add 10 to the value of our next shot.

Novices: genuinely seek assistance. Veterans: give judgment-free assistance. This is paramount to our game and, at the risk of approaching hyperbole, society as a whole. And let’s hope the score is not 3-2.

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, July, 2023

During the semifinal match of the PBA Super Slam Cup in May, EJ Tackett bowled a perfect game. It was the 40^th time a 300 game was bowled on a PBA telecast, but it would’ve counted as the 35^th… except it didn’t count. The count was off on counting a feat that didn’t count. Yes, Tackett bowled 300 but no, it doesn’t count on the historical list of televised perfect games because it wasn’t done in a title event.

What? For any casual fans of bowling or math reading this, the numbers above make absolutely no sense and have turned you off to both bowling and math.

The solution: let’s stop numbering 300s. “EJ Tackett bowled 300” sounds a lot more impressive than “EJ Tackett bowled the 35^th televised 300” and not just because the latter comes with built-in asterisks as is bowling’s way.

It no longer matters how many have been bowled. Let fans enjoy the memories of what they’ve seen and the excitement of what they will see.

We’ve Seen Enough

When Jack Biondolillo was the first to achieve perfection, it made sense to bask in the rarity. Johnny Guenther two years later was worth noting as the second and Jim Stefanich five years after that was arguably worth noting as the third.

But even as early as the fourth—Pete McCordic in 1987—numbering the games didn’t mean as much. McCordic’s 300 was more impressive because it had been 13 years since the last one and because of McCordic himself than because it was the fourth ever rolled. What do you remember about Bob Benoit’s 300? Bob Learn Jr.’s? Probably not where they fell numerically. By the time Jason Queen bowled 300 in 1997 (and wasn’t given credit until 2008, making him the 19^th to be credited with a perfect game but slotted chronologically as 11^th), we were way past needing to number these things.

Consider again a casual fan, whose mind exploded reading that Jason Queen parenthetical, and this distinction of a perfect game “on television.” Of course it’s on television. That’s where bowling happens. Casual fans—the vast majority of the television audience—don’t know professional bowling happens anywhere other than on TV. These fans certainly don’t care whether it was a title event or not and if they are impressed watching someone bowl 300 and are then told it doesn’t count, what are they to think? Probably, “What else is on?”

That—distinguishing between a title event and an exhibition—brings us to the other reason we all benefit by stopping the count:

The Other Perfect Games Were Real

Tackett rolled 12 strikes in a row in one game. That happened. There’s video evidence. It also happened for Wes Malott twice. And for Ryan Shafer. And the Dallas Strikers. And Dom Barrett, although for clarity and to add an asterisk while trying to remove asterisks, Barrett only had to roll 10 strikes under the auspices of the World Bowling scoring system, but he still scored 300.

These games have long been relegated to yeah-they-happened-but-they-don’t-count status. But if we stop numbering the 300 games that do count, we can welcome these six back into the all-inclusive group of perfect games bowled on television, righting an ancient wrong. Everything counts if we stop counting.

We should do it soon, because by the time this issue hits mailboxes, it’s likely we’ll have seen the “actual” 35^th perfect game at the PBA Tour Finals, an event that’s given us at least one 300 each of the past three years.

If we stop numbering perfect games, each successive performance will mean more in the moment, adding prestige by simply letting a 300 game be the achievement it is rather than some item on (or not on) a list. All previous pseudo-acknowledged performances can be seamlessly recognized as having happened without upsetting the chronology. And not to worry: accepting the existence of Tackett’s 300 will not in the least tarnish Tommy Jones bowling 300 to win his 20^th title a day after being inducted into the Hall of Fame. Legendary performances will always stand out for what they are, not for where they land numerically.

Sure, we can keep the lists for historical reference. These were bowled in title events, these were bowled in other events, this one only required 10 strikes, but it’s time to stop focusing on all the caveats. Did someone bowl 300? That’s all that, yes, counts.

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, June, 2023

Noah turned eight years old last month. Like so many soon-to-be eight-year-olds, Noah had a birthday party at his local bowling center. There is truly no better venue or activity for a child’s birthday party; it’s a public place so Noah’s parents don’t have to allow any additional slimy children in their house, it’s an activity all kids enjoy, a sweet cake tastes even sweeter when it’s in the shape of a bowling pin and, best of all, Noah will get to take home an actual bowling pin that he’ll cherish until he’s 24 and he needs to burn it for warmth after his lowlife significant other throws him out of their apartment for chopping a 6-10 during their Thursday mixed league.

Noah invited all his friends to celebrate and every one of them except Liam showed up. Liam refused to attend a party hosted by a two-hander, let alone a two-hander who uses the “wrong” brand of bowling ball. Liam has integrity and only throws—and associates with—one-handers who use the best equipment in the world, which is not to be confused with the other set of the best equipment in the world Liam will be using a month from now.

Of the nine kids who attended the party, six were two-handed righties, two were one-handed (one lefty) and one, Mason, refused to participate because the gutter guards were up. No legitimate score can be thrown when gutter balls are impossible. Plus, with the short oil pattern Noah requested, the kids were going to have to get close to the gutter and the rails could’ve interfered with their shotmaking. Mason didn’t want to risk such humiliation.

Instead of being humiliated, Mason used his time to humiliate the four kids who had to rent shoes and pick a house ball off the rack. In defense of Mason’s bullying, those kids really were making a mockery of the sport by not intuitively understanding the intricacies of ball motion and approach awareness, thinking some old ball with a conventional drilling and ill-fitting shoes would help them achieve honor scores. Embarrassingly amateurish behavior by those third graders.

After the first game of the two-game party block (Mason also criticized the lack of a third game that could’ve allowed for additional honor scores), Noah’s parents had the kids take a break from the lanes so they could devour some pizza using their non-bowling hands. At first, the kids loved this, but eventually they started to get nervous that their arms and legs were getting stiff with all the waiting between games, so they asked for additional practice before game two. Noah’s parents refused, citing time constraints. The kids, in an uproar and completely unconcerned with time, approached the manager and demanded practice. The manager and the parents met for a few minutes and eventually compromised, giving the kids three minutes of practice on a non-party pair before game two began. This cost Noah’s parents an extra $20 but it was well worth it to placate the participants and prevent the pizza portion of the party from plundering the party of its proper prestige.

Needing a double in the 10^th frame of the second game to win his own birthday party, Noah confidently stepped up, went through his pre-shot routine, approached the line, released the ball and got three off the left to lose to his younger sister who posted a career-best two-game set of 193.

After taking a moment to himself in the locker room, during which he hurled his equipment and shoes and empty boxes in all directions, Noah returned to the party as if nothing had happened, excited to open his presents, all of which were rolls of thumb tape. Except for the one roll by a brand that was not product-registered with the party planners, this was exactly what Noah wanted.

Happy birthday, Noah.

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, May, 2023

In all debates on all topics in all areas of the world, there is none more compelling or consequential to society than the appropriate field size for a bowling tournament. How many entries is enough? How many entries is too many? Is there more prestige winning an eight-person tournament when the competitors are eight best in the world or is it more fulfilling to win a tournament over six thousand bowlers of extremely varying skill levels?

As of this writing, the USBC Masters recently concluded with Anthony Simonsen outlasting 389 other bowlers to claim the title. It was Simonsen’s third USBC Masters title and fifth major. The other 389 players will need to wait for their next chance. For many, that will be next year as no other event on the schedule even comes close to approaching the consideration of possibly almost reaching such a huge number of entries.

Some say every event should have 390 players. Some say no events should have 390 players. Some say 390 isn’t enough; open up the entries, add a D squad. E Squad. Use the Khmer alphabet if necessary. Some say 390 is about right, but only if you have the “correct” 390 as someone on the waiting list may have been able to take down Simonsen whereas entrant 390 didn’t stand a chance. Yes, maybe. Probably not.

It was Simonsen’s second title of the season. He also won the PBA Wichita Classic, part of the five-event Classic Series that featured 64-player fields. EJ Tackett has three titles this season, winning the U.S. Open and two Classic Series events. Jason Belmonte won the other major, the PBA Tournament of Champions, which was another 64-player contest, this one featuring only national champions as well as some regional champions who got through the PTQ.

How is it possible that Simonsen, Tackett and Belmonte have combined to win six of the first eight events of the season? No matter whether there were 108 entries (U.S. Open including 21 from the PTQ), 64 entries or 390 entries, it seems like some players tend to do better than others.

Bowling has always struggled with admitting some players are better than others. In baseball, sometimes a career .220 hitter will go 4-4 one night against Max Scherzer, and yes, maybe a bowler who forgot to sign up for a tournament only to claim he would’ve beaten Anthony Simonsen might actually have beaten Anthony Simonsen, but in reality, Scherzer is probably going to get that guy out next time and Simonsen is probably not going to be defeated by someone who failed to enter the tournament. It’s also worth considering the hypothetical .220 hitter is still a Major League Baseball player, whereas more than 300 of the 390 Masters competitors are not full-time professional bowlers.

Obviously, in bowling, there are anomalies, and in a one-game match, anyone stands a chance against even the likes of Simonsen, Tackett and Belmonte. But we’re talking about winning here, and that’s not the argument of the huge-field proponents. To them, it’s not about who wins; it’s about who cashes. More people should be paid to bowl. As many bowlers as possible should get paychecks, even though the more spots that pay, the lower the pay is for everyone.

The counterargument is fewer people should be paid to bowl. Only the most elite among them should get paid—and paid well—to represent the highest levels of the sport. What’s the right answer? 390? Simonsen won. 64? Simonsen won.

Let eight players in or let a thousand in. Chances are, one of the guys from that hypothetical field of eight is going to win in either case. Not all the time, but often. Does that matter? Does bowling know what it wants? Or do we simply want whatever we don’t have at any given moment?

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, April, 2023

During Major League Baseball Spring Training, players and fans have been adjusting to the new pitch clock, in which pitchers have 15 seconds to throw their next pitch and batters have to be engaged with the pitchers eight seconds before the expiration of the pitch clock. It’s phrased that way because baseball, like bowling, likes to make things as complicated as possible.

In semi-understandable terms, a batter has to be ready to bat in seven seconds and the pitcher has to pitch in 15. If the batter doesn’t bat, a strike is called on him. If the pitcher doesn’t pitch, a ball is called on him.

Bowling has had, officially if not practically, a shot clock in place for a long time, but the rule is hard to enforce and the penalty is a nominal fine.

In baseball, the enforcement comes from umpires referring to a calibrated clock. In bowling, the enforcement comes from waiting four or five hours for someone to notice, “Hey, that guy is even slower than the rest of us,” at which point a tournament official goes and stands behind that guy for four or five shots that take 20 minutes to roll, then tells the guy to speed it up and qualifying continues as normal. With huge fields and small tournament staffs, enforcing a consistent shot clock is a nearly insurmountable task, especially with the previous round’s cut players lined up at the printer demanding the tournament director’s attention.

The PBA shot clock is 25 seconds long. A player has 25 seconds from the moment it becomes his turn to make his shot. A lot can be done before the clock actually begins: ball wiping, shoe swiping, hand licking, ball-return-perching, to name a few. Doing these types of things in advance of one’s official turn is considered being ready.

Part of this new baseball initiative is attempting to force the batter and pitcher to be ready. Bowling has the same problem. Some players simply aren’t ready when it’s their turn. With the lane-courtesy procedure, one player not being ready can delay multiple pairs, causing one of those unexplained expressway traffic jams that simply clears up at some point with no discernible reason it was ever jammed. A bowling traffic jam generally doesn’t subside until the game ends and players start over on a new pair.

Even for the most meticulous routines and most ardent trusters of the process, 25 seconds is a lot of time (especially considering—prepare yourself for earth-shattering insider info—the routine is often part of the process and thus runs concurrently). Players should be able to adhere to this timeframe without being stalked by the tournament director or lectured by a fellow competitor.

As of now, though, slow play in bowling is almost unenforceable. Baseball has one pitcher and one batter competing at once. Bowling has dozens and sometimes hundreds of players throughout an entire bowling center. During the stepladder finals, it’s not a problem. But during qualifying, a tournament director can’t be enforcing slow play on lane 80 when some guy on lane 16 is just as slow but hasn’t been noticed. That would be, to use a bowling term, unfair.

Is an enforced pitch clock working? The baseball games, on average, are approximately 20 minutes faster than they were a year ago during Spring Training and are now down to approximately two hours and 40 minutes of a bunch of guys in silly outfits standing around until something might happen. Like all sports except one, baseball seems to think shorter games are better. If that’s the goal, then yes, the pitch clock seems to be working.

Baseball’s experiment makes one wonder if a somehow-enforced bowling shot clock would work. If we could emulate baseball and shave 20 minutes off a day’s action, we’d only be asking fans to pay attention and players to be in peak competition mode for 11 hours and 40 minutes a day. Might be worth a try.

This installment of The One Board originally appeared in Bowlers Journal International, March, 2023

Early March is an optimistic time of year. Spring might arrive in the northern hemisphere, fall might arrive in the southern hemisphere, Jason Belmonte might arrive in time for his match with BJ Moore. At this point in 2023, the PBA Tour has completed four events and we’ve already guaranteed one competitor the Player of the Year Award. Four champions have shaken hands with four runners-up, uttered a sincere, “Good bowlin’” and then exhaled in triumph and exhaustion before having to muster more energy for the media blitz.

Throughout the rest of this month and two days into April, the PBA Tour will have completed four more events and guaranteed a different person the Player of the Year Award. Four more champions will have shaken hands, maybe even added a half-hug or back pat, expressed “Good bowlin’” and happily signed dozens of autographs for patient fans.

Good bowlin’.

Literally, the phrase requires only a single additional letter to define: good bowling. Throwing a hearty “Good bowlin’” at someone is a nice compliment on the act of having bowled well.

Getting into its deeper meanings, “Good bowlin’” has immense sportsmanship connotations. Players trade this phrase with each other preferably but not always in sincere appreciation. Even if the players don’t always mean it, they still say it; if a guy overcomes an opponent who rolls five Brooklyn strikes, the winner might say “Good bowlin’” purely to be a good sport but he certainly won’t mean it literally.

Better is when both players bowl well, so the loser can say “Good bowlin’” knowing he tried his best but didn’t quite succeed while the winner can say “Good bowlin’” knowing he worked extra hard to get his deserved victory, which not only shows sportsmanship but can also bolster his confidence going into the next match.

Even within the inimitable bowling vernacular, language evolves. “Good bowlin’” has also become somewhat of an honorable mention, or a kudos, or a statement of consolation, or even, “Hey, nice try.”

Digression: as much as we at The One Board would like fans to be more vocal and involved at all events, is there any worse way for a fan to be involved than by saying “Nice try” to a professional who just missed a nearly impossible split late in a match that cost him $50,000? Good rootin’.

With its many nuances, “Good bowlin’” is simultaneously the utmost compliment and slyest consolation.

There are variations, the most frequently used being “Great bowlin’.” This is often used by a winner who thought either there was a legitimate chance he might lose at some point, thus expressing extra relief with the upgrade from good to great, or by a winner who knows he got away with some lucky breaks and needs a stronger word to convey his reverence for his opponent. By saying “Great bowlin’” to the person who bowled better but lost, the winner can alleviate any guilt over getting a much larger paycheck.

“Great bowlin” is often extended into “Great bowlin’ all week,” while “Good bowlin’” usually exists without any modifiers. To avoid confusion, we won’t get into how “all week” often means “yesterday.”

“Good bowlin’” is simultaneously a genuine show of sportsmanship, an authentic congratulations and a heinous insult. The phrase “good bowlin’” actually comes from the Latin “tu terribilis es,” meaning “You’re terrible.”

Appropriately, “Good bowlin’” has one more meaning, which is simply “goodbye.” This definition is generally conjured at the end of the final qualifying round of an event. Players shake hands with their pairmates and say “Good bowlin’,” which more directly translates to, “I can’t believe I was able to make the cut with you on my pair and I am extremely grateful you’re going home now and I’ll never see you again but I’m polite so I will bid you farewell with an outright lie.”

Good lyin’.